


Boiled Beef and Carrots

by methylviolet10b



Category: Basil of Baker Street - All Media Types, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fic, Silly, Song Fic (of a sort), Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 17:52:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11605824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: Dawson might not last another week. Written for JWP #24: Music Hall.





	Boiled Beef and Carrots

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Oh so very silly and pointless. Except for Jennie, that is; she [belongs to gardnerhill](http://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerhill/pseuds/gardnerhill/works?fandom_id=620493), who writes much better Basil than I do. And absolutely no beta. This was written in a huge rush. You have been warned.
> 
> Author's Notes: Written for JWP #24: Music Hall. There's a list of music hall songs here on Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Music_hall_songs). Refer to one in your fic. (I chose "Boiled Beef and Carrots", and yes, that's a song.)

I looked at my dinner and did my best to stifle a sigh before picking up my fork.  
  
“You’re looking a trifle under the weather, Dawson,” Basil remarked from across the table. “You’re just picking at your food, and you’ve lost at least a few ounces in the past week. Are you all right, my dear mouse?”  
  
Incredulous, I stabbed my fork into my meal and then raised it to eye-level.  
  
Basil looked slightly abashed. “Ah, yes, of course.” He cleared his throat, making no attempt to start his own meal. “When does Mrs Judson return?”  
  
“Not for another week,” I groaned.  
  
“Perhaps we were overly optimistic, thinking Jennie and her sisters could handle things while she was away.”  
  
I looked up quickly. “Basil, we could never say anything. It would break their hearts.” It would, too; the young rats had very tender hearts underneath their street manners. “And they’re doing a very fine job overall – well, except for the one thing.”  
  
“Yes, but the one thing is cooking – and I cannot have you wasting away,” Basil retorted. “Oh, do give me some credit, Dawson. I would never let them think anything amiss with their housekeeping. However, it would hardly be surprising if we were called away on a case, and gone for some days.”  
  
Hope dawned, drowning out the unhappy sensation in my stomach. “Do you have a case, Basil?”  
  
“As it happens, I’ve been contacted by a correspondent in Brighton about some odd occurrences. A ghost mouse is allegedly haunting the best and most reliable route into one of the Brighton Blue creameries. I have some curiosity to discover what is really behind it.”  
  
A case that would take us to the site where one of England’s most exquisite cheeses was made? I set my fork down with a clatter. “When do we leave?”  
  
“On the morning train. Be sure to pack for a stay of at least a few days, Dawson. I’m sure it will take at least that long.”  
  
My friend is truly a genius.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted July 24, 2017.


End file.
